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04-21-2013, 08:10 PM | Topic Starter |
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your favorite poem
My son has a school project. What is MY favorite poem. I have no idea, other then Roses are Red..etc.
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04-21-2013, 08:12 PM | #2 |
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There is no way this thread is real. The advent of Google destroyed this thread 16 years ago.
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04-21-2013, 08:15 PM | #3 |
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LMOA....didnt want to do google. I wanted the wisdom of the CP not google.
BTW...the Man from Nantucket doesnt count. |
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04-23-2013, 07:33 PM | #4 |
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Pablo Neruda
"Maybe We Still Have Time" authored by Pablo Neruda is my current favorite. Put that alongside images of the 911 attacks, and it will make anyone reflect on what has happened, is happening to ourselves, our neighbors, our country, our civilization--humanity as a whole.
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04-21-2013, 08:32 PM | #5 |
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Tell all the truth but tell it slant
Success in circuit lies Too bright for our infirm delight The truth's superb surprise As lightning to the children eased With explanation kind The truth must dazzle gradually Or every man be blind. - Emily Dickinson I did it from memory, and then looked it up and messed up one line. I don't know why I remember this poem, but it wormed into my brain in college and is one of only three poems I can cite from memory. The others are "Apparently with no surprise" by Dickinson, and my favorite poem to ridicule by William Carlos Williams that has the chickens by the wheelbarrow.
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04-21-2013, 08:33 PM | #6 |
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Roses are red
Violets are blue **** all you guys |
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04-21-2013, 08:35 PM | #7 |
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The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim Because it was grassy and wanted wear, Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I marked the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. -Robert Frost
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04-21-2013, 08:42 PM | #8 | |||
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One of my all time favorites.
Other's that have always stuck in my head are... Quote:
Quote:
Quote:
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04-21-2013, 08:36 PM | #9 |
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The poem my dad taught me, that he learned in the Army from a guy he met from Brooklyn. It's called "Thoity Poiple Boids." It goes like this:
Thoity Poiple Boids, Sittin on the Coib. Oipin and a Boipin Eatin Doity Oit Woims. Along came Moit And his Goilfriend Goit. And they saw Thoity Poiple Boids Sittin' on the Coib, Oipin and a Boipin' Eatin' Doity Oit Woims. Boy we're dey petoibed! |
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04-21-2013, 08:40 PM | #10 |
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"If" by Rudyard Kipling
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04-21-2013, 08:40 PM | #11 |
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"Dear John"
You are my everything. I see you glisten under fluorescent lights. You are crisp. Rich. Filling. I think back to when I met you. You were given to me. I gave very little in return. I almost don't want you not because you are bad for me but because I don't deserve you. Where did you come from? The ocean? The kitchen? You are of two worlds, which I cannot hope to understand. I can only hope to appreciate you for what you are: Fried fish. Fried chicken. Fried shrimp. Hushpuppies. Chips. Coleslaw. My everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. You are my everything. .jpeg - TL |
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04-21-2013, 08:45 PM | #12 |
You Sweetie!
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" You can't play with my YO YO - don't try to play me out "
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04-21-2013, 08:47 PM | #13 |
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Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight, In sunshine and in shadow, Had journeyed long, Singing a song, In search of Eldorado. But he grew old- This knight so bold- And o'er his heart a shadow Fell as he found No spot of ground That looked like Eldorado. And, as his strength Failed him at length, He met a pilgrim shadow- "Shadow," said he, "Where can it be- This land of Eldorado?" "Over the Mountains Of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride," The shade replied- "If you seek for Eldorado!" -Edgar Allan Poe
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04-21-2013, 08:48 PM | #14 |
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Dang Rainman... you are to cerebral for me. Quite a nice poem thou.
George, that was sweet. The Boston accent adds it all. Thinking that this is the one that the son will use. Thanks guys |
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04-21-2013, 08:49 PM | #15 |
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Half a league half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred: 'Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns' he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. 'Forward, the Light Brigade!' Was there a man dismay'd ? Not tho' the soldier knew Some one had blunder'd: Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do & die, Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volley'd & thunder'd; Storm'd at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred. Flash'd all their sabres bare, Flash'd as they turn'd in air Sabring the gunners there, Charging an army while All the world wonder'd: Plunged in the battery-smoke Right thro' the line they broke; Cossack & Russian Reel'd from the sabre-stroke, Shatter'd & sunder'd. Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd; Storm'd at with shot and shell, While horse & hero fell, They that had fought so well Came thro' the jaws of Death, Back from the mouth of Hell, All that was left of them, Left of six hundred. When can their glory fade? O the wild charge they made! All the world wonder'd. Honour the charge they made! Honour the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred! - Alfred Lord Tennyson
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